That seemed a signal of encouragement to the other boys. Wess and Pan Handle and Tim crowded round the girl. Arizona refused to be edged aside from his favorable position.

“We? Oh, I’m to have several escorts,” responded Georgiana, demurely, as she gazed up at them.

“Shore we-all came to escort you,” put in Tim, rather timidly, but with beaming face.

“Lady, you’re a-goin’ with the right outfit,” said Pan Handle.

“Outfit! Oh, then you belong to the Four T’s—at the Thurman ranch where my sister lives?” cried Georgiana, eagerly.

“Wal, miss, you shore hit it on the haid,” drawled Wess, with his engaging smile. He had recovered his balance. Blandly he introduced his comrades. “This heah is Arizona, who ain’t got any other name. An’ this’s Pan Handle Ames, an’ heah’s Tim Matthews.”

Georgiana gave all in turn her hand, and a look that further marked their utter demoralization.

“And Mr. Cal Thurman—where is he?” she queried.

“Reckon Cal didn’t want to bother aboot meetin’ you, lady,” said Tim, blandly. “Last night he beefed a lot. He was heah when the stage come in, an’ I guess he beat it.”

“Oh, I see,” replied the girl. “I’m sorry if my coming has annoyed anyone.”

“Wal, it didn’t annoy anyone but Cal, I’ll swear to thet,” answered Tim. His comrades laughed at this.

That was all the byplay Cal heard, for his attention was attracted by sight of Hatfield returning from the garage with a hired car. During the amazing and preposterous stand made by Wess and the boys in their endeavor to work this situation to their pleasure Cal had recovered from his consternation. The boys had been quick to grasp at the trick played upon them by the schoolteacher, and meant now to turn the tables on Cal and take Miss Georgiana home. Cal vowed they would never succeed. The situation had changed wonderfully to his advantage. How pretty the girl was! Already those deceitful rogues, who had come to Ryson solely to play some outlandish joke on him, had become smitten with this girl. Cal drew a deep breath and leaped out of the car. He felt master of this situation, and something stirred in him, deeper and more fiery than the situation seemed to justify.

When Hatfield halted at the porch Cal deliberately looked into the car, and seeing Miss Stockwell’s bags, he promptly lifted them out. Hatfield swaggered out of his seat.

“Hey, Thurman, what’re you up to?” he demanded.

His loud voice silenced the conversation on the porch, and everybody turned to stare.

“Bid, I’m relievin’ you of Miss Stockwell’s baggage,” said Cal, coolly. “I was sent to meet her an’ I’m goin’ to take her home.”

Hatfield’s muscular body jerked with a start of angry passion, and for an instant he glared darkly at Cal, with the blood slowly leaving his face. There was more here than the mere opposition confronting him. Then he masked his true feelings.

“Well, Cal, you didn’t show up an’ nobody else in your outfit had any manners, so I offered to escort Miss Stockwell,” he said.

“Ahuh!” ejaculated Cal, taken back by the rider’s terse reply.

Whereupon Hatfield mounted the porch, and with a gallant bow he faced the girl.

“Miss Stockwell, will you let me take you to your sister or do you prefer to go with Thurman?” he inquired, courteously.

The girl had quickened and stirred with the excitement of the moment. Manifestly she was alive to Hatfield’s striking appearance and personality. Then she turned her flashing gaze upon Cal.

That was indeed a trying moment for him. Suddenly, it seemed, as he felt her glance take him in, all his assurance and sense of right in the situation oozed away. He wore his old rider’s clothes, and never had they seemed so dirty and ragged as now. What a sorry figure he must cut in contrast to this handsome Hatfield, or the boys who had put on their best for the occasion. Cal felt the blood rise to his temples.

“Mr. Bid Hatfield, if it were a matter of choice, I’d much rather go with you,” replied the girl, sweetly.